Hail to the Thief
by Protagonist Hiro
Summary: “He is coming. No planets aligning nothing so clean. He has followers again he has souls. But they're not enough...not nearly enough. He is an infection, Raven. And he’s tired of having you as his only host.” RaBB, RSF ships. Please R&R! Chapter four up.
1. Bad Moon Rising

**Author's Note:** How-dee-do-dee, all. What your reading now will be the first and last AN to appear at the beginning of a chapter…It'll also be the first and last time you see me use the phrase "how-dee-do-dee". Hopefully.

Anywho, thanks for stopping by! This is my first attempt at full-blown Teen Titans fanfiction (I've tossed out some confusing and trippy poetry before, but that doesn't count), and I hope it turns out well.

Points to address that you probably don't care about but that I have to write anyway before I shut up!

**Disclaimer: **gives entire audience the look and moves on to Aforementioned Summery

**Aforementioned More Detailed Summery Within: **

Raven has gotten…touchier lately. Lately everyone seems louder, everything seems brighter…And having an apparent "cold" isn't helping matters any. But when a cult leader with a panache for mind-transport, mind-reading, and mind-bending comes into play, and when a very unwelcome guest starts appears inside her friend's heads, Raven begins to suspect just what's causing her discomfort…And just how close her paper-thin walls are to breaking down. This story concentrates on breaking down the walls put up by every member of the Titans team, and on the lengths people go to make themselves happy.

…And that was an equally crappy summery. Aw, screw it, I wanna get this thing up.

**Dedication: **This fic is dedicated to (among _many _others) **Change-of-Heart2, The Sage of the Story, SuNsHiNe10, Mint Dragon**, and any other fanfiction author whose managed to create something real inside their works. You're the people who inspire me to keep writing, and to keep writing fanfiction, and for that I will always be grateful.

**Pairings: /**sigh/ Okay…Much as I would love to say that I could write this story with no mention of any pairings whatsoever so that everyone stays happy and friendly and doesn't bombard me with possums, I, sadly, am a shipper. And thus I can't. So, that said, this story _does _involve Raven/Beast Boy with a nice helping of Robin/Star for flavor. If you don't like R/BB, either (a) ignore the R/BB-ness and try to enjoy the story as it is or (b) don't read it. "Flaming the author about how much you hate R/BB", you'll note, is not an option. While I'm not an official shipper, I think it's sweet and lovely and it makes me happy inside, so I'm writing it. So there.

**And now, without further ado, **

prologue.

"Hope you have got your things together.

Hope you are quite prepared to die.

Looks like we're in for nasty weather.

One eye is taken for an eye.

So don't come round tonight,

It's bound to take your life,

There's a bad moon on the rise."

--"Bad Moon Rising", Creedence Clearwater

Raven's mind needed some serious redecorating.

She sighed an inward sort of sigh (though outside, now, of course, since she was essentially inside of"inward") as her azure boots padded along the barren landscape that made up her psyche. Pebbles of dirt crumbled beneath her feet. The wind batted heavy at her ears. Somewhere in the distance a raven screeched.

She didn't really blame her emotions for their silence today. After exploding at Beast Boy, and then exploding at herself for exploding at Beast Boy, and then exploding at her exploding at herself for exploding at Beast Boy, she couldn't fault their desire to give her due space. And why should she? Why _would _she? She _thanked _them…It was so very rare that the blackbird received the silence owed to her these days. Starfire could now barely contain the ever-hated, ever-chittering "girl talk" from bursting through the courteous dam she'd erected on Raven's behalf; an _hour _the redhead had gone on during this morning's meditation about make-up or something of the like before Raven had finally caught on that she'd been speaking to _her_. Robin could be heard up in the training room beating mats and walls and gods know what else day and night…Ever since they'd beaten up that punk who'd claimed his cult of choice would "consume their souls" any day now, just like they always did. Cyborg and Beast Boy's gaming habits had somehow managed to go from rambunctious to…to…_anarchical_ in their practice…She'd spent twenty dollars out of her own metaphorical pocket (try installing pockets onto leotards) buying Beast Boy a new controller after Cyborg had chucked his old one—not to mention the now old PS2—out the ninth-story window. And Beast Boy…_Beast Boy…_

He never shut up. That was all there was to it—the shape-shifter would never shut the nine hells _up. _Ever. Never _once _six months ago did she anticipate she'd be wishing for him to return to his previous, more peaceful ways…As if the boy-man even _could_. It wasn't so much that there was a "new Beast Boy" and that he even had an "old one" to return to. The old Beast Boy _was _the new Beast Boy, and they were both, essentially, still Beast Boy, and Beast Boy was a green changeling who she now wanted beat over the head with her latest 600-page novel on a tri-daily basis. Gods! _Every day_…

"Whatcha reading, Rave?"

"Want some tofu, Rave?"

"Wanna hear my new joke, Rave?"

"You okay, Rave?"

Always the same, always the same "Rave"! She'd told him, she'd told him _so_ many times: "Nothing"; "Not on my life"; "No"; "I am fine, Beast Boy". _So _many times…and that "Rave"! That hideous "Rave"! No one could call her _"Rave"_…It was Raven, Raven, always Raven. It was so simple; so easy. Don't talk to her, she wouldn't kill you. And still he did it…And still he pressed on…Never ceasing, never breathing, again, and again, and _again!_

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

Raven jumped for a split-second, then immediately recovered to her blank-slate self.

"Anger," she stated rather than greeted the scarlet-swathed figure who'd interrupted her walk by popping up six feet ahead of her.

"Rage shall consume you."

"Yes, yes, I _know _that, seeing as you make a point of mentioning it every single day of my life."

"Your miserable life."

"That's right, Rage." Raven began rubbing her temples. Gods, she needed some herbal tea… "My _miserable _life. Right. How could I have forgotten. Miserable. Right. Check. Thank you so very, very much for reminding me."

Rage's mouth curled into a smirk which made Raven flinch.

"No problem, little Raven. That's my job."

Raven's violet eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," quipped Rage, that trash-soaked curl of a smile growing on her moon-like face, causing her bloody eyes to crackle shoots of crimson.

"Rage," Raven began, frost caking her every word. "You are one of _my _emotions. You are _my _shadow, my mind. I am gray, and you are grey. I can control you; I _do _control you."

The thing's voice came out in a nasal song.

"Not al-ways…"

"_That_, you little _thing_," Raven spat back, whipping around to face her Rage, "was a freak accident, something I've taken immense precaution to not allow again. And it will not happen again."

"Ah, ah, ah…" twittered the emotion, wagging one slender finger in her birth-mother's face. "Never say never, my little blackbird."

Raven felt it; the familiar, molten rage bubbling in her stomach, roaring metallic up through her throat, threatening to spew out her mouth in an uncontained bought of pure hate…But she swallowed, and she counted her heartbeats, and down it went again.

"If you do plan on pulling another take-over," she replied in her typical monotone, "it was moronic to come here and tell me about it. You know that--" She raised a single black brow. "—right?"

"Ah, but I'm already in the midst of preparations…" Rage sounded positively delighted with herself. It made Raven want to throw up. "Did it not seriously occur to you that perhaps your friends _haven't _grown louder? That perhaps Robin always trains day in and day out? That perhaps Starfire always talks and giggles and squeezes you this much? That perhaps you bought the 'dynamic duo' a new controller two _years_ ago as well?" Her eyes met Raven's for the cutting blow. "That perhaps—just perhaps—Beast Boy sees something that you haven't?"

Raven's voice literally stung on its journey out her throat.

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe he's asking you so many questions because you look so much more preoccupied all of the time." Rage stared into the air at something Raven couldn't see; her red eyes seemed to gleam. "So much paler then usual. Is he the only one that notices? Maybe he's wrong. Maybe you're just thinking about something more important than the stuff he thinks about. Of course, you always do… But maybe you're sick? Maybe you've got the flu. Maybe it's a virus. Maybe he'll get it too."

A thousand questions swarmed Raven's mind, her heart, her blood. Something...sharp took a hold of her body. Something telling her to run away. A feeling. A bad feeling. What had John Irving called it? The "Under Toad". The Under Toad, waiting to suck you beneath its black, black depths…

"Maybe he's wrong…" Rage trailed off, and, as if on ball-bearings, her head swiveled to look her avatar straight in the eye. The smirk had faded from Rage's face to leave something which made Raven's heart freeze…

"But then, maybe he's right."

Raven didn't say a word in reply.

"The time is so very close we can almost taste it, little bird. No planets aligning; no, nothing so clean. The very wind itches with his essence. You know of whom I speak."

She didn't say a word…

"He is coming. He has followers again; he has souls. More than just yours. But they're not enough…Oh, no, they're still not enough. They're just people after all. He wants more than just people. It's the only way he will finally be free. He is an infection, Raven. And he's growing tired of having you as his only host."

Raven's fingernails dug into the flesh of her palms.

"I think…" She slammed her eyes shut and focused all of herself into straightening her wavering voice. "I think you should go now, Rage."

She kept her eyes closed through that terrible, evil snickering. She kept her eyes closed as she heard the sound of boots padding closer and closer. She kept her eyes closed as she felt hot, humid breath on her neck and as her emotion's parting words, high and sneering, tip-toed sing-song through her ear:

"Rage shall con-sume you…"

-------------------------------------

Raven's eyes flicked open in an instant and turned towards the audience with a scrupulous stare.

"Do you think they'll review?"

Rage picked at her fingernails with a flippant air.

"They will if they want to live."

Was that a death threat to make you guys click that little lilac box that every author loves? No...of course not…/shifty eyes/ But seriously folks, reviews make kittens happy, and no reviews make little babies cry. And who wants to make a baby cry? It's one of the most annoying noises in the universe to this day (seeing as I have to deal with it every waking and sleeping moment of my existence from my little sister, I know of what I speak). So, please, please review. It will buy you my love (my love being in the form of more chapters, not…um…other things…)

With love and wholesome rage,

Paiga!

p.s. If anybody knows the song "2-plus-2-equals-5" by Radiohead its lyrics are like a complete and total spoiler for this whole story. I'd be curious to see if any one figures it out…

p.p.s. I realize this chapter was uber-short. That's because it was the prologue…Typical chapters should be anywhere from four to ten pages.


	2. Young Pilgrims

chapter one. Young Pilgrims

"_I fell into a winter slide;_

_And ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes too narrow—_

_Just sticking out my measly pipe._

_But I learned fast how to keep my head up_

_Cuz I know I've got this side of me_

_That wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just_

_Fly the whole mess into the sea."_

-- The Shins

_This is suicide._

Beast Boy stood as he had stood for the past ten minutes: in front of Rae's steel front door, fist suspended in mid-air half an inch before it, as he listened to a small and rarely heard part of himself he had dubbed his "Inner Raven". Seeing as his Inner Raven got a chance to speak about once every six months or so, she was taking this opportunity to shove as much convincing into her speech as possible, and the effort of engaging his rather petite attention span left no energy for such tawdry activities as "physical movement."

_This is suicide, _repeated the Inner Raven in tones which suggested holding her medium an inch from her metaphysical face by the front of his plum-and-sable uniform, speaking slow and clear just in case he somehow missed something (which, considering this was Beast Boy, was not a bad idea).

_This is a bad idea. Going into Raven's room equals a bad idea. Bothering Raven equals a bad idea. _

'Buuuut, I thought apologizing equals good idea?'

He could practically see the massaging of the sinuses.

_Apologizing does equal good idea. Bothering Rae and barging into her room to do the apologizing—bad idea._

'But—'

_Remember the last time you went to her room to apologize for something?_

'She hugged me?'

There was a pause from Inner Raven.

…_Remember the time before that?_

'Dude, it's kinda hard to forget getting sucked into a mini-mirror of doom.'

_They're called hand-glasses._

'I thought those were glasses. Like…_glasses_.'

_No. We've had this talk before. Hand-glasses are hand-held mirror thingies._

'But—'

_Raven said they were._

And there was silence from both sides. Once Rae said something was something, that was the end of that. Except, of course, when it came to the subject of her.

_Anyway! _Inner Raven went on, making a hair-pin curve off a subject track that was going in very dangerous directions. _The moral of this story is that entering Raven's room unannounced leads to big four-eyed demon-thingies that could, to be perfectly frank, sit on and smush you._

'But…wait…We defeated that guy.'

_Correction: Rave defeated that guy._

'Right…with our help.'

_Are you serious? _Inner Raven rolled her eyes. _Maybe with Cyborg's help. But you? Garfield…you turn into furry things. You're the size of, like, a twig. You crack jokes…That's what you do._

A pregnant pause followed, where Inner Raven waited for Beast Boy to argue with a small frown on her metaphorical face. Nothing came.

_Look, _she sighed finally. _Stick to what you're good at, alright? You're the funny man; be funny. You know that if you try to apologize you'll just mess up somehow and make her even madder. You've knocked on her door like five times. You've tried calling to her. She obviously doesn't want to speak to you right now, so we should both just—_

"Are you _lost _in _thought_?"

Beast Boy (the physical Beast Boy) squealed like a small animal who'd been trod on and jumped five feet into the air, only to come crashing down to earth seconds later. Rae's eyebrow raised in slow mo.

"Dude!" he exploded, flailing his green-dyed arms. "Would you, like, wear a bell or flash some lights or buy a private medieval horn-blowy guy to announce you or somethin'?! _Jeez!_"

"You know what 'medieval' is," Rae deadpanned. "I'm impressed."

"Really?"

Rae met him with a dead-on stare which lasted several grueling seconds.

Finally, Beast Boy managed to force up some hard-won anxious laughter (as opposed to puke; it always made him sick when he embarrassed himself) as the dark girl turned heel and walked back inside her bedroom without shutting the door behind her.

"Heh heh…heh…I, ah, take it that was a 'no', then?"

"Ingenious."

"Well, at least you _know _enough to tell me. Heh heh. Get it? Cuz—"

"Beast Boy, why are you here?" Rae asked flatly, thoroughly decapitating any chance for small talk or light-hearted banter. Her back was still towards him as he hovered in her doorway, trying to determine whether leaving her room open was an invitation or not. She certainly wasn't helping.

_I told you this was a bad idea._

"I just…ah…" What did he want again? His olive eyes were busy wandering over the various artifacts and sundry books which littered her somber bedroom. It was still a Halloween-war zone, but he preferred weird stuff to look at that the normal sorts of objects which drew the other Titans to them like magnets. His and Rae's rooms weren't that different, really. His weird stuff was just a bit more…sunny.

"Beast Boy."

"Meh?"

"Your point. Make it."

"Oh! Yeah! Sorry…" His eyes traveled down to her heather-colored floor. _Such a bad, bad idea…_ "Actually, umm…that kinda was the point. I mean, the sorry…ness. I_ mean_, I kinda wanted to apologize. For earlier."

" 'Kinda' wanted to?" Her fingers darted like spider legs over the dark bindings of each musty tome on her shelves. "Gee, Beast Boy, don't strain yourself."

"No! Gack!" The boy had taken an automatic step into her room and, in his anxiety, lost his footing, crashed to the floor, and caused several dozen books to fall from their stacks and come crashing onto _him_. In a flash he was up again, his lithe body flickering all over the floor, trying desperately to do a million things at once. "No—uh, sorry about the—I mean, I really mean it. I'm _really _sorry. I mean, okay, so I don't really know why you picked today to go all psycho-mondo-doom-queen-of-death on me, but—Ack! Sorry! That wasn't how it sounded! I mean it was but it wasn't supposed to be—"

He looked up at her hopelessly. Her back was still turned but at least she'd finally stopped that totally not-caring way she'd been looking through the books…Why did she always have to do this? Apologizing was hard for Beast Boy in any setting really…But with Rae… With Rae, it was like begging forgiveness from a box; like professing your undying devotion to a bush. Talking to Raven was like sprinting into a wall, full-speed, head-first, again and again and again, and yet somehow he kept on doing it. Why?

"I've gotta be a masochist…" he muttered accidentally aloud.

"I'm sorry."

Beast Boy stared at the back of Raven's head, until even he was surprised he hadn't drilled in two clean holes. She's…

"You're…"

…_what?!_

"Sorry." Raven's voice had somehow grown tighter, as if someone had stretched her vocal chords to the snapping point. "I am. Really. You really weren't any more obnoxious or nerve-grating than you usually are, and I should be able to handle that, but today I couldn't, and for that I am sorry. And, to answer your question, no, Beast Boy, I'm not okay, and I probably won't be okay for the next couple days."

Beast Boy continued to stare. She couldn't be saying this—not to him; not to anyone, but certainly not to him. Something sharp took a hold of him then. A feeling. Just a bad feeling. She had to be joking; she'd sounded so heavy, so…dead. She had to be joking, it _had _to be a joke. But…Raven didn't joke…

"Beast Boy!"

"Huh?"

"I don't suppose you've somehow managed to retain the concept of 'enter-my-room-and-you-die', have you?"

"Wha…?"

He looked down. Then he looked back. Then he looked up.

"Oh…eh heh heh…" Trying his best to not look straight at the look of death which played upon her Azarathian features, Beast Boy stumbled to his feet and handed her the formerly fallen books. "Sorry bout that, Rae."

Two fists clenched to deadly degrees at her side, and a red tint entered her eyes.

"I told you…" began Raven, poison oozing out of her every word. "_Don't call me—_"

"Rae!"

"Tell me, Beast Boy, do you have a death wish?"

"No—Rae—I mean…look!—"

"Because I really don't think any court in the country would convict me right about now…"

"No, I mean—Dude, your _hands_!"

Finally the girl in black stopped her slow stalking of the changeling, and looked down at her gray hands. Or, they should have been gray hands. At the moment they were red.

Her eyes faded back to their familiar azure state. Her eyebrows rose.

"Oh."

And then she finally passed out.

--_Elsewhere…_--

Her skin was dead.

They'd made fun of her for it, before. The way the skin was paper-white, winter-white, snow-white; how waxy it had felt. What had they said?

"Snow-white, snow-white,

Got an apple, took a bite,

She went down without a fight,

Got her lips bit by a knight,

Stupid dyke, snow-white!"

Fools. "Dyke" didn't even rhyme with "white".

"Hey lady!"

The policeman snapped his peppermint gum; it was a habit his wife despised, but, hey, what's a guy supposed to do? She was always on his back about it; "Richard, stop snapping that damn gum!" Geez…lady-like his ass. Sometimes he couldn't even remember why he'd gotten hitched in the first place.

"Lady, stop!" Dumb chick. Just like all of them. It drove Dick nuts sometimes. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only sane one left in the universe. Then he'd stop wondering stuff like that, because stuff like that scared the living shit out of him when he really stopped and thought.

Finally, after walking in front of her Saturn and waving his night-stick in her wind-shield-obscured face, she began to slow down and stop. He swaggered to her window as she rolled it down. Immediately his eyebrows rose.

"What seems to be the problem, officer?" Her voice was like ice; no, ice was stationary. Her voice was like icicles, sharp and cold, piercing him right through his bulletproof vest.

He coughed. "Right," he began. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this here is a yellow-tape zone. No cars in or out for the next couple hours. You'll have to take the detour indicated by the orange cones."

"My, you policemen certainly rely on color." She smiled. She was…beautiful. She wasn't hot, or sexy, or cute, or gorgeous. She was _beautiful_. Dick could feel his hard-on growing…He flushed crimson.

"Fine, then," she continued, oblivious. "I'll take the detour. Exactly what happened here anyway?"

His eyes widened when what came out of his mouth wasn't the "I'm sorry, miss, that's classified information…" speech he'd given the other motorists that had come this way .

"Lunchtime special. Someone came into that house—" He jerked his chubby hand over his shoulder at a Tudor style flat. "—bout a half hour ago. Off-ed an entire party on the sixth floor. Twenty people. Well, kinda off-ed them. More sent them into some kinda comas…Might as well be dead, though. Nothing going on up here--" Richard tapped his forehead. "—like less than vegetables."

"Really." Her hair…it was so black. Maybe she was one of those Japs? But it seemed darker than that…It was like night, like spider's threads rubbed in coal. "How?"

"Dunno…" He scrunched up his face conspiratorially. "That's the weird thing. I guess their brains just shut off. Not a scratch on them."

"Really." And lips…They were red, but they weren't red. They were something purer than red, something carnal. They were like meat, like blood… "You caught the psycho that did it yet?"

"Not yet. Somethin' tells me the chief's gonna crack and call up the Teen Titans. He hates that half the time us cops gotta rely on a bunch of hormone-driven kids to save the city, but what're you gonna do? Besides, they've got powers 'n shit, y'know? And considering we're dealing with some schytzo who can turn off peoples brains, looks like guns aren't gonna do the deed."

"Oh, I don't know…"

Her fingers grazed his dyed cuffs lightly…They were so white.

"You'd be surprised how these things go."

As white as snow.

"Maybe you just need someone…"

As white as death.

"…who can keep his head."

And then everything turned off.

Author's Note(s): Dun dun duuuunn!! Meet the new villain, gang. Yeesh…I think I've managed to creep myself out with this one…I like her though. She's a real bitch. Not to mention psycho. Gotta love the classics. Also, I promise Raven's random passing out does have a point and it's not just an excuse for BB to get concerned. /shifty eyes ensue/ And speaking of BB…

**A note on Inner Raven** (WARNING: prepare yourself for an essay…): I believe most people have an "Inner Raven" of sorts. It's similar to a conscience, but since every conscience bends depending upon whom it belongs to, I think BB's would show up with the voice, and general character, of Raven. Of course, this is also BB's version of Raven; it's essentially still BB, but it's BB trying to imitate Raven, which he generally does a pretty good job on. In my fic at least this is evidence that BB isn't necessarily as dumb as he comes off to be; he's no genius, but most of his stupidity seems to stem from his belief that "I am Beast Boy and therefore I am stupid." While he's playing Raven he's coming from "I am Raven and therefore I am smart", and thus he is (or tries to be) smarter. However, he's still BB, and this explains not only why Inner Raven says things like "four-eyed demon-thingy", but why she is consistently condescending and cruel to poor BB. I'm going with a mixture of the cartoon BB and the comic BB: to quote one of the comics creators, "Because everyone in his life had died on him, Changeling believed he had very little to offer anyone and covered it up with an outward bravado." I'm hanging on tight to the theory that there is a reason Beast Boy acts the way he does; and seeing how all the real-life Beast Boys I know (read: two) suffer from this same "a-huge-ego-resulting-from-no-ego" complex, this is the reasoning I'm going with. And because Raven is (much as I love her) by far the Titan who puts BB down the worst, it makes sense that his 'Inner Raven' would also be a catalyst for his self-hatred. Much as I sometimes don't like the idea, our actions, and our words, having due reactions: this is the consequence of Raven's. Will she find out exactly what effect she's having (positively and negatively)? Only time will tell!

Eleven reviews for a prologue? Zoutalours! (translation: Hurrah!)

**Spade111—**Hee, I like the name! And the twist with Little Miss Rage plays a _huge _part in this story. If you can figure out how, I'll send you a virtual cupcake.

**VashTheStampede7123—**Firstly, Trigun rocks. Secondly, thank you so much for your review…One of the best compliments you can give an author is that you like their style, and when you write fanfiction getting a review that actually comments on a part of your writing that you can carry over into your original stuff is both rare and excellent. Thanks again!

**Daine—**Yeah, I guess this story is gonna wind up pretty creepy. But funny! But creepy. /sweatdrops/ Just wait until chapter four or so…Then we'll start getting into the _really _juicy stuff.

**maraina85—**Hope this 'actual chapter' didn't let you down! Thanks for the compliment!

**someone—**Yare, yare! What a mysterious nom de plume! Originality is exactly what I'm aiming for with this; or, at the very least, an original spin on a classic topic. I hope you keep up with your promise and that I hear from you again.

**Jade Monsoon—**Oh, uh, yeah…I, ah, hate it when writers change pairings at random intervals (/nonchalantly deletes six pages of Raven-Starfire S&M smut/). I am, of course, joking. I agree that fanfiction is, commonly, a rather dicey medium; it has the capacity for great good and great evil, but, because it is far, far easier to simply be evil, it tends to fall to the dark side of the spectrum. However, knowing this tends to inspire me to write even better than I normally would just to knock the competition up a couple of notches. You think you love me? I think _I_ love you. Long, thorough reviews are every aspiring author's _dream_, and yours was no exception. Also, I sense in you an honest reviewer, who will tell me when I mess up and when I do well. Which I need. Desperately. Because none of my friends like Teen Titans, and thus the only editor I have is myself. If I have you at the very least I can look out for things in the next chapter I upload. In short: please, please, _please _review again!

And, yes: Bad Moon Rising is an _awesome _bit of polyphonic goodness in my belly.

**The Mad Shoe—**Hee, I hope you're nagging feeling proves correct! I at least promise to give this baby my all.

**Stella-s55—**Glad you approve!

**Samieko—**Oolala? I like it!

**LavaLampLuv—**Sadly, if you're anxious for kissy, you're gonna have a long ways to wait. I'm picking this up from where the series is now; and if I'm gonna keep these guys in character, it'll take them a bit to get their acts together. On the plus side, there is some fluff! I mean, its creepy fluff, but still…

**roses in bloom—**(1) I love your penname. (2) Woot! I've hooked someone! The writer's never-ending quest continues! Now if I can _keep _you hooked…

Okay, guys, here's the deal: would you rather have short updates (read: 3-4-5 pages) every few days or long updates (read: 8-9-10 pages) every few weeks? I can really do either…My writing style is pretty easily divided when it comes to chapters. I ask this because currently I do have the next chapter written and it was originally a part of this chapter. However, it would've probably taken me at least another day to edit it, and I want to completely re-write the part at the end…

Anyways, I'll let you guys decide what you want in your **REVIEWS**. Which are very **NICE**. Like the **NICE PEOPLE** who **REVIEW FANFICS**. Especially **THIS FANFIC**. So you should **BE NICE** and **REVIEW** all the fanfiction you read, but particularly **THIS FANFICTION**.

Um…Please.

With love and steaming cups of Ramen,

Paiga

**Next Up: chapter two. **In which Raven is _not _seriously hurt, is _not _in a good mood, and is _not _entirely certain we're in any position to lecture her about making stupid decisions.


	3. Gingerbread Coffin

**chapter two. Gingerbread Coffin**

"_We looked down at the ground and into her eyes,_

_Passed around an old tea cup filled up with dead flies._

_Surprise, surprise!_

_Were brought but not used a collection of knives;_

_We'd remember this moment for all of our lives._

_Lay her down in her Gingerbread Coffin._

_She's so pretty all laid out in white._

_Lay her down in her Gingerbread Coffin._

_When we need her she'll rise to the night."_

_--"Gingerbread Coffin", Rasputina_

Everything was a hazy sort of white.

It reminded her of snow, which upset her, a little. She'd never liked snow; that surprised people. After all, it was so much like her; pretty and bitter and _god_, so, so cold. But they never said this; not out loud. What poor manners, to actually _say_ those sorts of things to a person's face (apparently etiquette has nothing on thoughts). But it didn't matter. She knew enough from her enhanced empathic abilities (so dubbed by Robin) to know when people thought things, what they thought. It didn't matter that she couldn't throw open people's heads and flip through them, making her own scribbled notes in the margins; it didn't matter that she couldn't _read _their _minds_. She could see their minds, and that really made all the difference; every twitch on their silly symptomatic faces managed to give the poor things away.

She tried to feel bad about it. She really did. Maybe she would if they wouldn't think what they did.

She was upset. Gods and hellfire, she was upset. She couldn't remember the last time she was upset, even this tiny thought of a spark, this wisp of a dream of something she didn't want to see. It wasn't just about the snow now, either. No. She knew what it was. It was that Under Toad, that damned Under Toad, chasing her down to pull her on under…No.

No.

She wasn't going to be pulled under. Not yet. Not now.

She didn't have the time.

"Friend!!"

Something black turned in the sea of snow, and Raven felt her upset burst like a roman candle before her psyche snuffed it out. The smoke and scent of burning sentiment would remain until she meditated again. And, considering her current situation, that could take a while.

"…g'lorkisfar interik pi…"

She hated this. Why couldn't she move? If she was dead, she was going to be _very _annoyed…

"…bortyyar uio hort'or…"

The black thing wouldn't stop _turning…_would somebody _please _stop its turning?

"…korkastar remelstar mortis…"

Fine.

"…j'rori malork…"

If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

--------

"…hestar morik cochii-Raven." Starfire's curly-lashed eyes flickered open and her clamped hands released themselves, only to clench onto the hospital bed's metal rungs in earnest. She was un-used to this. Dis-used to this. What other short terms for to stick to the beginnings of words meant "not"? She would have to ask Robin when he got back…

When he got back…

She disliked this. Very much did she dislike this, and she disliked this because it was unfamiliar to her. Dis-fa—un-fa--… Between unbridled joy, righteous fury, and boundless confidence, there wasn't much room in the great red-headed pudding called Starfire for anything else. Nor did she wish there to be, if this sickening sinking of the heart was a part of that "anything else".

She wished the boys would come back.

Beast Boy did not wish to go. Neither did Cyborg, and neither did Robin really, she knew, even though he'd said it was for the good of the city. Raven would be fine, he'd said. Starfire always trusted Robin. Starfire always believed in what Robin had to say. Even if…

No! Such thoughts were silly.

Her concern was foolish. Raven was beautiful and capable and strong and she would continue to exist if she'd just wake up, when she just woke up…

Such thoughts were silly.

The wounds were small, Robin had said. Troubling, but…small. Just a wounding of the flesh. But (and she _had _very muchly wished to speak of this to Robin, but, oh, what if he disliked her for thinking silly things?) the wounds of the flesh were not the difficulty. Not the…correct…difficulty.

Raven healed in her sleep. She did not heal now.

Oh, she _did _wish she'd have voiced such silly thoughts to Robin! She remembered she used to voice silly thoughts to Robin all the time. But things had changed somewhere…Somewhere she'd realized how silly she sounded when she voiced her thoughts and somewhere she'd learned to blush whenever the others laughed at her errors. Somewhere she'd begun to worry if Robin would still like her when next she awoke; if any of her friends would. Somewhere something had happened. Somewhere she'd begun to care.

She wished sometimes she could correct this "somewhere".

"Star?"

Starfire stared in the general direction of the white-wiped cotton blanket which sheltered Raven's hospital bed, her face a porcelain expression of troubled. A weight formed in Raven's heart…

"_Starfire._"

"Hm?" The Tamarian's eyes meandered up to the Azarathean's bemused face, and then sat there for a few long seconds before a stick of dynamite exploded in Starfire's brain.

"FRIEND!!"

Star went from standing at the end of the bed to practically crushing Raven in less than the time it took a lightbulb to go out.

"Thank Glorst'r of Whitlblork you are well! We were all very disturbed at your falling into the night of mind!! I performed the Tamarian entreaty of good guidance to help you through the dark but nothing seemed to occur and worryness had begun to make me ill, but now you are back—" She took a deep breath, and her face proceeded to crack into a beam wider than any human was capable of. Raven's eye twitched. Star's pupils had somehow managed to morph from relatively-normal spheres into giant, four-sided twinkles.

"I shall construct the Pudding of Good Health to express my gladness!"

"Starfire…"

"Yes, most glorious and unresponsive of friends?"

"Air…please…"

"Ah!" Starfire quickly released her more fragile companion; a blush grazed her pretty apricot features and she laced her fingers together in worry. "A thousand pardons! Oh, but I am glad that you again are well! I shall go call Robin and the others—all of us were most concerned for your healthfulness! They will be so pleased—Please, Raven, you should not leave us again! A terrible thing has happened in your absence!"

"A terrible thing?" Raven felt the weight drop from her heart to her stomach. "What kind of--"

"I will be back! Please do not return to the land of blackness, please!"

And without further ado, the redhead sprinted from the room.

Raven sweatdropped, and quickly took stats of her quarters. She was in the hospital wing; 'a bit melodramatic of them,' she deadpanned to herself. Her hands were caked in strips of gauze, which were in turn caked in crayon doodles of hearts and kittens. Again, a bit melodramatic. She could simply have healed herself—

"I am back!" Starfire flickered back into the room, her face still plastered in that ridiculous beam, waving a communicator in her hand.

"Um, Starfire, are you certain this is--?"

"Robin? _Robin? _CAN—YOU—HEAR—ME—RO—BIN?"

Raven heard a scratchy grunt from within the handheld device.

"What is it?" Robin's voice snapped. Starfire visibly recoiled as though burned and Raven could practically see the sorry radiating from Robin's image.

"Sorry, Starfire," he amended, much more softly. "I am. Now what's up?"

"Many apologies, Robin," replied Starfire in earnest. Still, Raven cocked an eyebrow—had she just heard _annoyance _drift into Starfire's voice? "But friend Raven has returned!"

"Really?" she heard Robin exclaim. A twitch formed on Raven's forehead at this; by the nine hells, it wasn't as if she was going to die by…by a _flesh wound._ "Put us up on the monitor, Star."

"Yes, friend Robin!"

No, no annoyance. She had to have been imagining it.

But no…No, lines like "she had to have been imagining it" were things that characters said in her books. And they never really _were_…Everything happened for a reason in those with literary minds.

"_Raven!"_

Robin's lithe figure flickered on the computer monitor in the form of a thousand staticky pinpoints of red, green and blue. Something white was interrupting their view; something in white streaks. It whipped at Robin's hair and stung at his face…Raven could see the mask of peach covered in patches of flushed red. His expression made Raven once again reach inside and strangle her Upset; it was like a milky white skim of relief attempting to hide an entire crevice of gloom.

"Raven," he sighed again, fake-smiling and trying to catch his breath. "Good to see you're awake—"

"Dude!"

A jade gorilla shoved Robin out of view and immediately morphed into a fifteen-year-old boy, who stammered for a few seconds before finding his voice and _exploding._

"Don't you ever_, ever, _ever, ever ever, ever, ever, _ever_do that again! Okay?! _Ever._"

He ran a hand through his hair in anxiety and proceeded to shift from foot to foot and look around, all of this in rapid succession. It was like he was looking for a place to direct his anger other than at Raven, seeing as the small part of his brain that was logical (even Beast Boy had to have one) was currently reminding him of how much of his butt an enraged Raven could kick. And Raven didn't disagree. Except he currently had her at a sever disadvantage, considering how much his sharp anger and worry had thrown her off her monotone course.

"I—It's just—Jeez La-freakin'-_weez,_ Rae,way to freak me out, like, a flabillion times in a day! _Ack!_"

Raven's eye ticked. How many times had she— _Hells damn that_ _"Rae"!!_

Robin had shoved himself back into their line of sight, and the now ranting Beast Boy out of it. Angering Raven right now was probably not the best of plans…And most of Beast Boy's purpose seemed to be to do just that. Sometimes he wished…

"Raven," began their leader, in weary tones. Robin always managed to feel ten years older than he looked. "Just—" He sighed. He had to do it. But…god…it felt like eating arsenic. "Give us five minutes. Just…five minutes. We're making a temporary retreat."

Raven's eyebrows rose and Starfire jumped in front of the monitor, eyes wide and utterly mortified.

"But—Robin! That would be 'giving up', yes? We cannot simply 'give up'!"

"We're _not _giving up," snapped Robin, a little too quickly. "We're not. It's just…temporary. Temporary. Since we're missing both you and Raven, we're severely understaffed."

"But we were informed the woman was only another cultist!"

"She is…" Robin's eyes fell to the "woman" a mere fifty feet away. He shuddered. "Sort of."

The Under Toad croaked.

"In any case," Robin went on, his face looking as though he'd swallowed an entire batch of Starfire's Friendship pudding. "We're in…deeper…than I'd thought. No one's injured but…We can't focus. It's just temporary. Just…We'll be right there. Five minutes. Just…five minutes."

And the screen went black.

Raven looked at Starfire.

Starfire looked at Raven.

'Oh, dear,' thought Starfire. 'So this is what is meant when a silence has become the awkward.'

"Awkward is an adjective—"

Starfire jumped with a tiny "meep!" and the controller she had been cradling in her gloved hands clattered to the floor.

" –not a noun," Raven continued, unperturbed, either not noticing Starfire's look of horror or choosing not to. "It doesn't require a 'the'."

The mortified Tamarian's mouth formed an 'O'. Then there was another long, awkward pause.

"I'm sorry."

Starfire looked up, startled, her eyes like jade beetles in her orange face.

"Normally I don't hear thoughts," Raven continued, suddenly rather fascinated with the wall. "Something particular must be going on."

"Something--?"

"Tell me about this…cultist…" She flipped her pale legs over the bed's metal frame and hovered to the window. Traffic to the city had been backed up for miles…"That little parley with Robin wasn't exactly a pep talk."

Starfire wrung her hands… She should not be standing up. Starfire was certain—After all, she'd only just returned from the land of night (which, as far as Star was concerned, was really just a chunk of death you could maybe, sometimes wake-up from). She should not be standing—Robin would be angry. Oh, Robin cannot become angry!

"Please…" She would not like this. She would be angry… "Please, please sit friend Raven. You are not well—"

"I'll stand, thanks."

"But friend—"

"_I'll stand, thanks._"

Silence. Starfire bit her lip and tried to suppress the sob congealing like wax into a lump in her throat. Raven was always so cold; it stung. Like a slap in the face. Like a cut on the hand you hold. Like ice.

Raven sighed, but didn't turn around. She hadn't really wanted to say that to Starfire (Really, being cruel to Star was akin to kicking a kitten. Not a regular kitten. Like a Beast Boy kitten.) But it had to be done. It wasn't cold it was practical. Practical.

"Raven!"

The Boy Wonder, followed by the Boy Mechanic and finally the Boy Stupid, fell into the room like flames. Raven's enhanced empathic abilities punched her in the face. Blue eyes swam in an ocean of dark circles of anxiety and illness behind a strip of black polyester which didn't protect him, not from this, not from—

His knuckles were bleeding. How had he only just noticed his knuckles were bleeding? How could she morph him? She was like Raven except not because Raven wouldn't do this Raven was smart and cruel but Raven was good Raven was good Raven was—

Torso power levels down 54.0078 power. Pelvic power levels down 39.8776. Cranial channels 61840 and 61812 damaged. Ranged torso weaponry down 88.9126. Ranged forelimb weaponry down—

fear anger fear blood blink hate fear doubt fear good fear ice fear anger fear blood blink hate fear doubt fear good fear ice fear anger fear blood blink hate fear doubt fear good fear ice fear anger fear blood blink hate fear doubt fear good fear ice fear angerfearbloodblinkhatefeardoubtfeargoodfearicefearangerfearbloodblinkhatefeardoubtfeargoodfearicefearangerfearbloodblinkhatefeardoubtfeargoodfearicefearangerfearbloodblinkhatefeardoubtfeargoodfearice—

"What happened, Raven?"

Fear.

"What?" Robin's voice tore her and all of it was gone. Cyborg checked monitors in the corner. Beast Boy stared at her from another. Starfire stood behind Robin and Robin, Robin sat beside her, looking at her. Why was he looking at her?

"I wasn't listening. I'm sorry, I—What was the question?"

Robin sighed slightly and fixed her violet eyes in his. _Why _was he looking at her?

"Your hands. Why?" He kept looking at her with those paper-white cloth eyes of his. Seconds passed. "Beast Boy tells us you were upset about something."

Raven's eyes whipped from Robin's face to the silent Beast Boy's where they bored into his as if they were nails, as if they were power drills and with them she'd kill him dead. _That sophomoric fool…That desperate little **whore!—**_

"I could ask you the same question," replied Raven stoically.

"I asked you first," shot back Robin. Under normal circumstances, maybe, just maybe, he'd have let her steer him from the subject. In fact he'd have definitely let her steer him from the subject…Robin, as a rule, respected others' silence. Hypocrisy was a trait he hated more than doubt.

But this case was different. And with this—he scowled— _new girl _in town, he could practically touch the something-fishy that was going on. With help he could identify the fish.

Raven didn't even blink.

"You know, Robin," she stated in tones intended to set off a silent alarm in Robin's head. "Some might say that the whole 'I asked you first' game would be very immature for the leader of a troupe of super-heroes."

"Yeah?"

All eyes turned to Beast Boy, still in his corner. His gaze held a sentiment which punched Raven's empathic abilities square in the face, even though he still wouldn't look at her angry eyes…It was the resentful, stony glare of a slighted six-year-old; that look, that look that was childish and ageless and _old _all at once. For the second time in the last five minutes, Raven was sent careening off her self-designed predestined track. Her eyes flashed as a scarlet swatch of rage flared up in her head. By the nine _hells_, didn't he understand anything?! It was there for them, it was there for _him_. That track was there so nothing could happen, so that nothing would explode or die or be released. He'd seen what happened when her track was discarded! Then why was it that everything the damned beast-boy did seemed specifically designed to make her into something…something _wrong?_

"Well, how about this, Rae?" He spoke very softly. He spoke to the floor. "I'm the immature one, right? I'm the stupid one, right? So if I played the 'I asked you first' game it'd just be like normal. Just like every day, right? So I'm asking you. And it's nothing new."

Raven shot him a look that could have curdled milk. Beast Boy flinched, then yelped and in a flash was hiding behind Robin's frame, while the Boy Wonder looked at him with a single cocked brow.

_Pathetic._

Raven's face, blank as slate, looked into Robin's for a few long, long seconds.

"I had a nightmare."

"You had a _nightmare_?!"

Robin didn't look all that surprised. Beast Boy, on the other hand, nearly burst a few vital organs, and Cyborg's one eye widened like a chocolate dollar in his head.

"Whoa…" he remarked, stuck somewhere between anxious and impressed. "If those're your nightmares, I don't wanna mess around with your dreams."

"That's your big reason?! _You had a nightmare?!_"

"Please, friend Beast Boy, calm yourself!"

"For once, Star, I think Beast Boy may have a reason for freaking out." Robin fixed his eyes on Raven's; he could swear her vision shot straight through the mask. "Raven…No normal nightmare is bad enough to make a person dig her fingernails an inch into her own palms. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Beast Boy was bothering me," she shrugged. "And the pain is considerably less than the sort I am familiar with. It was simply a flesh wound."

"A flesh wound that made you pass out due blood loss."

"Yes."

"I also notice you didn't heal yourself while you were in your unconscious state. Care to explain?"

Gods damn Robin and his intelligence…She _really _didn't need this right now.

"I was tired," she replied flatly. "I was tired, and besides, you seem to have taken care of the injuries quite well on your own."

"The wrapping was Starfire."

"That'll explain the kittens…"

"Listen…Raven…" He sighed and stared down at his hands. It was too much to deal with…First Raven, now this new little "problem".

"Robin," she replied suddenly, fixing him in the steady stare for which she was infamous. "We don't have time right now." She tried to calm the emotions which were currently threatening to rip through the thin little shell the world called her flesh. "Starfire tells me something terrible has happened?"

"Right…" muttered Robin. Starfire's eyes hovered on her best friend's back; she felt so helpless when it came to him. When it came to relieving his pain. Nothing she did stopped it, nothing she did helped…And it hurt her so much when she couldn't help the people she loved.

"Right," Robin repeated, stronger this time. He looked up, up at his team, up at each of his responsibilities. If anything ever happened to them…

"We've rested for long enough. We've got Star and Raven now…so…"

Anything at all…

"Who knows who else she's…wrecked."

He'd…

"Titans, GO!"

And with those two words every so-called super-human in the room darted for the door. Beast Boy hesitated and glanced back at the gray-skinned girl who sat suspended in mid-air over the hospital bed, unwrapping her hands with the polite yet pointed haughtiness usually reserved for queens and antiques collectors.

"What?" she snapped without glancing up.

"Dude…you're not, like, seriously coming, are you?"

"Yes, Beast Boy, I am, like, seriously coming." Rubbing her unmarked hands together, the girl floated over to the double-glaze window in the corner of the room. With a flash of black it opened. For the second time that day, Beast Boy was left staring into Raven's back. He opened his mouth—

"Here's the deal, Beast Boy," quoth the Raven. "I'm not seriously hurt, I'm not in a good mood, and I'm not certain you're in any kind of position to lecture _me _about making stupid choices. So, please, before you say anything, shut up."

And with that the empath fell out of the window, and began to fly into the ash-coated no-color of the Jump City heavens.

The fifteen-year-old shape-shifter she'd left behind walked over to the open window and stared out into the sky.

"Looks like nasty weather," he murmured, before morphing into a viridian eagle and gliding towards the car.

--

A pale woman dressed all in black stood alone in the center of Main Street. Surrounding her, in an exact 360 degree radius, were bodies. Little peach and black and brown bodies. Surrounding the bodies were yards of yellow-and-black tape, flashing lights, dozens of police cars, and every policeman in the city (which, considering it was normally guarded by a squad of five, were not exactly abundant in number). And zooming in ever closer to the black-and-white chariots of the law, was a gangly teen held by a flying alien, a giant cyborg riding on the back of a Quetzalcoatlus Pterodactylus, and a lithe pale girl dressed all in dark blue bringing up the rear.

It had begun to snow.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" swore a portly man in his late-40's as the quintet dropped to the ground beside him. "It's about time! What the hell were you doing, playing truth or dare?"

The skinny body with suspiciously shiny black hair frowned.

"We were caught in traffic," he said stiffly.

"Speaking of which, we _better _go back and get my baby the _second _this bitch is KO'd," the half-man half-machine snapped, looking _very _displeased. "Whoever's bright idea it was to leave her in the middle of Highway 101 surrounded by a bunch of hostile German imports just waiting to jump her and steal her new and improved stereo system for themselves pays for every single replacement part if she gets so much as a _scratch_."

"Do not feel worry, friend Cyborg!" The alien beamed up at her disgruntled ally, despite quickly becoming soaked from head to toe in freezing snow. "I am sure the new and improved car of singing will still be in a state of…glorious…" She trailed off, her bright green eyes widening slowly in sudden horror as she realized—

"WHAT IS THIS?!" screeched the orange girl, clutching the skinny boy to her in terror. "THE SKY! THE SKY IS _FALLING_!!"

"Dude! Star! It's just snow!"

"NOT SNOW!!" That was when the alien paused and turned to the caped wonder who was currently going purple in her arms. "What is this 'snow', friend Robin?"

The dark girl sighed. "What exactly is the situation, officer?" She shot the fellow four a glare. "Since my _teammates _seem intent on not telling me."

Without a word the man pointed straight ahead of him to the woman in the center of the street. Her naturally mouse-like face was tilted towards the weeping sky; the sight of the snowflakes hitting her, turning to rain, and slithering, snaking their way down her white, white skin reminded the shape-shifter of congealing candle wax.

"_That_," spat the officer, sounding disgusted at the mere mentioning of the woman in black. "That…_thing _is the situation. She does something to people. Turns them off. Every time we send someone into that circle she's formed, it's like they just pass out and crumble to the floor."

"They are not…" The alien trailed off, staring with abnormal sobriety at the heaps of bodies.

"Might as well be." He followed her gaze as a shadow seemed to cast itself over his features. "It's like I said: it—she turns them off. Doesn't kill them; not quite. Just stops them. Just stops every part of their brain 'cept the ones that tie them to life. In a way, it's worse than what you feared, little lady."

"Well, the Titans aren't about to stand for it," replied the leader through ground teeth. "Not in our town."

As if on cue, the mind-melter in the center of her circle turned her gaze to the five super-beings. Her smile could be seen through the haze of the snow.

"So, my welcoming committee has finally arrived." Her smile grew to reveal carnal teeth as white as her skin. "What? No fruit baskets? Oh! But wait! You were here before, weren't you? I'm sorry, I had hardly even noticed."

"Robin…"

The leader jumped, and looked to his side in alarm. The white girl wrapped in black stared into the ground; her hands were clenched.

"A telemancer?" Slowly, deadly, her face rose to glare straight into his eyes. "You…were fighting…a _telemancer?_ And you didn't even _tell me?_"

"Wait…"

By then the Quetzalcoatlus Pterodactylus had morphed into its default state of a small, teenaged boy. Who was confused. As usual.

"It has a name?"

"_Of course it has a name, you utter moron!_"

"Geez, Rae, you could at least, y'know, _pretend _to be nice."

"_Don't call me Rae!!_"

"Right…" The Boy Wonder whispered to himself. Long since had he left the two empaths and their bickering; he had something bigger consuming his attention. He should have run towards her by now; he should have given the signal, should've "Titans-GO!"-ed. But…somehow…

He had a really bad feeling about this.

"Not going to come to me, eh?!" Suddenly the villain's eyes faded into an endless shadowed black; dark energy began to crackle around her. She began to rise.

"That's terribly rude you know. So very, very rude. I can't abide by rudeness at all. Especially not from a gang of little children!"

It was like she had slapped him in the face. For a moment the boy stood stunned, the part of him that was still thinking straight desperately trying to regain the upper hand over the part of him that wanted to haul ass. It lost.

"You don't like rudeness, huh lady?" His eyes met hers dead-on. "Then let's introduce ourselves! Titans—GO!"

That was all the other four teenagers needed. Those who couldn't fly sprinted towards the floating woman; those could, did.

"Be careful!" Raven screeched over the by-now violent snowfall, her eyes beginning to glow. "She's a telemancer! She plays with heads! Concentrate on something, anything!"

"Oh yeah?!" demanded the cyborg from below, as he sent three missiles charging at the woman. "Like what, exactly?"

Raven's mind flashed through options at the speed of sound. The telemancer screeched in laughter as every blow the Titans through at her was repelled by the wall of black energy which surrounded her slender frame, like a goose inside an egg. It was so hard to keep that laughter out of her head…

"Cyborg—name all the car parts used to make the T-car!"

He whipped around to squint up at her through water-soaked eyes.

"Say _what_?"

"Just do it!" Without a backward glance the empath dived towards her leader.

"Robin!"

The soaked and chilled boy didn't bat an eye; his teeth were bared against the pain.

"Robin—name all of the kata for Aikido. Understand?"

He nodded without turning and continued to pound at the woman with his bo-staff.

"Starfire! Think of every Tamarian celebration song you can!"

"_Every _song?" Starfire paused her assault to look down at her friend with the expression of a puzzled puppy. "But, friend Raven, that would take—"

"Just do it!"

Already, she was frantically searching for the last member. Where was he, where the nine hells was he…?

Ah! There!

An ermine, a jade-colored ermine, creeping cautiously forward, his fur slick with rain. She jerked forward before she stopped herself with a sudden certain thought.

He was trying to trick her.

And it could work, she noticed suddenly, her thoughts darting like swallows through her adrenaline-induced daze. Ever since she'd instructed the Titans to concentrate on something true, something that—that _witch_ couldn't get her spidery hands on, they pounded her relentlessly with crippling blow after crippling blow. Her grinning face had been replaced with a preoccupied scowl. Her field was dying…Her back was now exposed. All it would take was a well-place bite to the ankle or to the neck…

Her heart soared. She couldn't help it. It felt as though the skies had cleared, as though they'd already won—

"You think it's over, daughter of Trigon?" suddenly shrieked the girl of the snow-white skin, her head snapping over to glare straight into her eyes. "It's hardly even begun!"

And then everything turned off.

* * *

**Author's Note(s)**: I have no excuse for taking this long. You are all wonderful, and your reviews are always such a huge part of my day; it was really rude of me to make you wait three weeks, especially for a chapter which I never could get right. I think I owe you all at least an explanation, if not another chapter pronto…

The first major part of its taking so long was finals, which, if any of you have ever gone to public high school, you'll know why my attention was eaten up elsewhere. So, after a week or so of studying, I return to the story to find that this chapter, frankly, sucks. So I edit. And I edit. And I edit. And I edit. And no matter what I do there is something, inevitably, wrong with the chapter. Perspective (there is none), length (9 pages—2 are actual action/plot), OOC-ness (BB, WHY ARE YOU SO ANGSTY? STARFIRE, WHY ARE YOU SO HARD TO WRITE?!), action (just…imagine the last battle had the awesome storyboarding of the series), etc. So I then get frustrated and stressed and wind up avoiding the story altogether…Go me.

Subsequently, this chapter is a combination of the 20-some various versions which have been written of it. I realize there are many, many problems (all of the above-mentioned are still quite relevant), but I figured that I needed to get it out there. That, and the next chapter is when this story actually kicks into gear and I really wanna write it. Like, whoa. This was such a transition chapter…It makes me sad that it took so damn long to write.

**A note on Starfire **(WARNING: prepare for another essay…): When I first decided to do some of this chapter from Star's POV, it was supposed to be a challenge. I think to myself, "Self? You need a challenge. Otherwise, how will you get to be a pro?" and I reply "Yes. Yes, I do." Starfire was not a challenge. She was a fire hazard. She was a terror warning. She was fatal. Writing Raven is easy for me because she's cynical (like me), sarcastic (like me), and knows many big words (like me). Starfire barely knows English, and that makes writing her practically painful. Not only is her language difficult, but her mentality is too. She's innocent, but she's constantly witnessing violence. She's confident, but she's constantly co-dependant. She's…weird. She's actually far more of an enigma to write than Raven is, because whereas Raven's motives are clear as day (don't kill people), Star's aren't. So, to summarize; my take on Starfire will be like the child whose only now wising up. It's like when your cat dies, and your mother tells you its only sleeping. Sooner or later there's that horrible moment when you realize its _not _only sleeping and its not coming back, and that your mother lied to you, but how could she do that, she's your mother, and she's perfect only apparently she's _not._ Guess who's the mother and guess who's the child.

**Reviews! (and they're off!):**

**Lee—**That's really good to hear. Logic is kind of what I'm going for; if I can't make the character's totally IC, then I at least want their actions to make _sense _when you know their motives. That's kind of why I always have these notes/essays at the end…The last thing I want is to be guilty of is the infamous Fanfiction-"I love you!"-"I love you too!"-"Let's get married!" syndrome (FILYILYTLGMS). This is the disease most R/BB shippers are immediately accused of; that if they were to truly get together Raven would immediately blow BB's head off. Seeing as I've seen real-life Raven and Beast Boy's get together, my mission is rather to prove it can work without the fatal FILYILYTLGMS. Hope to see you again soon! Rage shall consume you! (Jeez…it sounds like a salutation…)

**Me!!!—**Hope this medium-sized chapter in a few weeks was okay…/sweatdrops/

**Change-of-Heart2—**Yes! Someone from my dedication has made it to my fic! I know what you mean about BB and Inner Rae…I had some stuff in the first couple drafts of this chap that was even worse, but I eventually cut it cuz I felt so bad. Get ready to feel even worse for BB, too…Oh, and sorry for the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter, but there really was no other place to end. On the plus side, chapter three will hopefully be out much sooner than this. I really hope to hear from you again!

**Jade-Monsoons—**Firstly, uber-long and semi-rambling reviews absolutely make my day. Secondly, where are these forums of which you speak? I keep trying to find them but for whatever reason I'm not turning up anything substantial. I'd love to join the community, if you guys will let me. /grins anxiously/ I'm sure I'd never shut up once I got there, though… Thirdly, Inner Raven will play a major part of the story's plotline, and pretty soon I should think. I'm rather in love with her, to tell the truth; which is slightly odd, seeing as BB's my favourite character, but I think BB himself will give a pretty good explanation for me around chapter six or so… Fourthly, writing the TT team is a huge challenge. I think its that each of them have definitive syntax all their own; none of them speak quite alike, and none of them speak like me. It's something I really have to look for, and even then I mostly can't imagine them speaking these things. Fifthly, I hope this view of the other Titans was satisfactory, and you will be seeing a _lot _more of them later. Though the story's focus is Raven and BB, truly the story is _about _all of them. Sixthly (jeez…), I hope you don't mind the e-mail I sent, but I kinda wanted to make sure you knew I hadn't given up. I realize the update's timing was inexcusable, but it won't happen again. Fanfiction's a bit like a job, really; I try to give myself due dates, and then I inevitably pass them. Anyways…lemme know what you thought of the chapter and what was proposed in the e-mail. Ja ne!

**Extravagent-Foolz—**Oh dear…I hope that was my writing and not a stroke. I also hope you're feeling better now, especially since I've finally given into the junkie's demands, but please, please Extravagent, please take the fanfiction in moderation! Think of the children! _Think of the children!! _And, ah… See you soon!

**Sycogerl64—**Thank you for your kind and excellent comments, and I hope I'll see you at chapter three! Hearing that I'm doing well at their insecurities and strengths is exactly what I need…The fanfic's plot kind of depends on it.

**Good Story!—**Great. Trigon. I'm dead.

**PirateChick—**Imagery's good in moderation, but my imagery tends to get so ambiguous that it's just confusing /sweatdrops/. Anyways, I'm glad you did show up! It's great having good reviewers at your fingertips…I'm really pretty lucky! Oh, and by the by, I just updated the poems as well (kind of a present for having to wait so long for this). I'd love to know what you think!

**Other Notes:**

**Sing Along**'s been updated with two new poems, rather as a present for having to wait so long for this. True, it's a weird ballad on Starfire and a creepy Slade-Terra thing, but still! I figured I owed you all something. Hopefully chapter three will be up in a few days…It's finally into the more interesting (but more difficult) realm I'd been waiting for, so I think I'll be more enthused. Or, um, dead.

With extra-love and poorly-constructed character Playlists,

Paiga

**Next Up: chapter three. **In which Raven falls down a rabbit hole; Starfire is sincerely scared; Beast Boy plays cat's cradle; Robin freaks out; Cyborg battles the pink rabbits; and an extra-large extra-existential chase scene commences.


	4. Automatic For The People

**chapter four. Automatic For The People**

It was a little bit like heaven.

For a wild, beautiful, flailing moment, Robin had thought that it was heaven; that he'd passed into a place he couldn't see, that he was finally—_finally_—given a chance to be new.

Then his common sense kicked in. It never took Robin's common sense long.

"Jeez…" he moaned. He dragged himself up into a sitting position; he'd been lying down? Wait; wait. Right. That's right. Evil woman, bo-staff rising, field breaking, winning...winning…and then…

Then everything went black.

Almost immediately, almost by instinct alone, Robin began to assess his situation. He was in a dark place—mostly dark. A beautiful place. There didn't seem to be a ceiling; all light seemed to come from thousands upon thousands of tiny glowing Christmas lights, giant electric hazes in all shades, lanterns and lamps and random shoots of electricity, all laced and living upon the millions of strings and lengths of wire which circled and looped and threaded their way into the oblivion of the "ceiling". There they danced, all alive, all of them practically _singing _their joy; electric morning glories on vines of copper wire.

Robin unfolded to his feet; the appendages felt like sandbags, and still he forced himself to stand. Where would the world be without a little discipline?

There were apparently no walls in the place—the heaven—the whatever, either. Any space which extended the lighting's faintly buzzing glow Robin couldn't even identify an outline for; it was as if the space didn't exist at all.

He took a step. The floor was metal.

He was slightly worried. Slightly. But it wouldn't do any sort of good to get really worried; someone had to keep his head, and of course that someone was the Boy Wonder. Where did they think he got that nickname anyway? For being hasty? For being nervous? For being confused? The Boy Wonder didn't get confused, or nervous. He knew exactly what was going on, and even if he didn't that didn't matter because he would.

"Hello?"

There wasn't an echo. Why wasn't there an echo? Actions like calling out "hello?" in the middle of a seemingly empty oblivion produced a creepy echo. _Where was the creepy echo! _

"_Man_," muttered the Boy Wonder. "What the _heck _is going on here?"

At that moment, as if cued by his confusion, a single wire coated in plastic snapped fifty feet above. A thousand sparks of gold and silver showered the hero, and he put up his arms to shield his face without realizing until he squinted up through that silver and gold, through the sequins, the mini-mirrors of silver and gold, that they weren't what he should've looked out for. What he should've looked out for was the snapped wire which was currently speeding at him with the force of a striking snake, aiming to do Jesus knew what and his arms were currently right in its way.

His eyes widened. His mind went blank. He took a sharp breath. He jerked his arms down. And then—

* * *

_In the middle of the world there is a land. And in the middle of this land there is a field. And in the middle of this field there is a boy, and in the middle of that boy are wires and special polymers, molybdenum steel and plastic, shiny things which in turn make the world go round._

_Next to this boy there is another boy, and next to him another boy, and beside each boy there is another until there are sixteen in number, each of them in starched cotton with numbers on their backs._

_In the middle of the other boys, there is meat. Only meat._

_The other boys are holding bats. Some of the bats are made of wood, and some of the bats are made of metal. Like some of the boy is made of meat, and some of the boy is made of metal. The other boys cannot excuse this. Boys must be meat; things must be metal. Thus the boy is a thing. _

_The other boys had wanted the boy to show them what it could do._

'_C'mon, Stone, it has to do something other than make you a freak!'_

'_Does Marcy actually like sucking metal cock?'_

'_It'd probably kill everyone on the Olympic's committee thing if they didn't let him in.'_

'_It'll probably kill everyone anyway.'_

'_Can it do that?'_

'_What **can **it do?'_

'_What is_ _it?' _

_Things are made to do things. Every boy knows that. Things have function, purpose; they create or they destroy, they clean, they fix, they do what people tell them to. They kill. They entertain._

_The other boys know what to do with things. _

_They were playing a game. The game was called 'Baseball'. _

_They are playing a new game. The game is called 'Chicken-shoot.'_

* * *

"Ah!" 

He'd gotten hold of a bird-a-rang. Somehow... He had slashed the wire; it had made a scratch. They were too tough to cut completely. Slowly, it had uncurled from the choke-hold it had had on his forearm, then it flinched away like a kicked rabbit and seemed to watch him, silent.

Robin didn't need this. He really didn't need this. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know why he was _there_; he didn't want to be here. He knew he'd just seen Cyborg, getting…He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to know. He respected people's privacy; that's what he'd always said. If they didn't want to tell him, fine. That was fine. It was their business, their demons—he didn't need to know.

Hypocrisy was the only trait he hated worse than doubt.

* * *

**_Chickenshoot—instructions and advice._**

_Now listen, because I'm only going to say this once. Straighten yourself up, push out your chest. Don't look like such a pussy, for the love of God; you're embarrassing me. _

_1. Select a teammate to be 'It'. Qualities to look for in an 'It': _

_--different skin_

_--different sex_

_--different sexual preference (even worse)_

_--different interests (particular targets include reading, writing, art, black, theatre)_

_--physical/mental deformities (blindness, deafness, a mental retard)_

_--a dangerously vocal nature_

_2. Having chosen your 'It', find yourself a heavy, blunt object. Some examples may include a fallen tree limb, a ripped floorboard, a bat; lead pipes and other metals tend to be avoided for their tendencies towards fatality. Remember, kids, you're just here to have fun— you're not here to kill someone._

_3. Using said object, strike whichever playmate is your current It. Continue to strike them. If they run away, chase them. Continue to strike them. If they try to fight, fight them. Continue to strike them. If they plea with you, call them a coward, then spit into their face._

_Don't look into their eyes._

_Continue to strike them._

* * *

"Jesus!" 

After grappling blind for several seconds his hands clasped and then wrenched off another cord, which darted off crackling.

"What the hell…" He felt lost; he was lost. "Where am I?"

"_Robin_."

His head snapped up. That was a woman's voice. Starfire—?

_Wham! _White exploded into his view and the air exploded from his breast as something hit the Boy Wonder from behind, slamming him into the molybdenum steel floor. He grunted. He couldn't move his back. A haze of red curled at his vision's corners.

"One:" went on the voice from behind his back, a cruel voice, a voice that was like ice, "A North American songbird _(Turdus migratorius)_ having a rust-red breast and gray and black upper plumage. Also called Robin Redbreast."

"Who are you?" His voice was hoarser than it should've been; damn it, he sounded so _weak_!

"Two—"

"WHO ARE YOU?"

The interruption echoed hollow around the wires strung like spider's webs. Robin had by now scrambled to his skinny limbs, a thousand invisible needles piercing his every muscle as he did so. He grimaced, but he didn't groan; a hero never shows pain. The white woman in black (what had Raven said? A Telemancer?) watched patiently as he drew his staff. Her arms were crossed, and Robin immediately, almost on instinct alone, began to size her up.

Black hair. Long hair. Tied (scratch that) braided into two pigtails which dropped to her lower back. Wearing: black leotard, strapless, w/ white tights, knee-high boots (black), elbow-high gloves (black), half-skirt (blue) tied around waist w/ large belt (holds knife, gun, pen, something red, something blue, pocket watch ?). Strong arms/legs. Excellent posture. Appears flexible. Arms crossed at breast. Red smirk. V. pale. Mousey face. Large eyes. Large blue eyes. Ice blue. Speaking (voice cold, alto, hoarse slightly so)—

"_Two_: A small Old World bird _(Erithacus rubecula)_ having an orange breast and a brown back. Also called Robin Redbreast." He glared at her from beneath his mask of cloth and elastic; she began to pout. "Now, now, didn't your mummy ever tell you? It's impolite to stare."

"Where are we?" His hands were sweating under his gloves; a hero never shows weakness. "Where are the others? _Answer me!_"

His voice again echoed. The girl began to snicker softly.

"You are just so cute," she mock-gushed, eyes cold but red lips molded into a condescending twist. "So quant—"

"It's impolite to not introduce yourself," said Robin through clenched teeth. The woman's eyes went wide.

"Oh! Where _are _my manners?" She proceeded to curtsy condescendingly low. "I am called Snow White. It's not my name of course, but, well, Robin isn't yours either."

"Now where are we?" Robin demanded.

"Ah, ah, ah!" twittered Snow White, waving one index finger in his scowling face. "Now, now, let's not be rude! I'm not entirely certain you're in the position to be demanding anything."

"I want to know where we are."

"Say the magic word."

"_What?_"

She sniggered over her breath, her lip curling back as she did so, a sight which made Robin's scowling face deepen.

Her eyes opened into snake-like slits.

"_Say the magic word._"

For a few long, long seconds, everything stopped. The smirk never left her face, just as the scowl never left his.

Heroes never give up. Heroes _never_ give in.

"…Please."

"I'm a little amazed that you haven't figured it out yet," Snow White went on in a tone which always seemed just a hair too light-hearted. "Really, Robin Redbreast, you have disappointed me so. We are in the cyborg's mind. Impressive, no?"

"Cyborg's…" Robin's eyes widened. "No…I can't be in here. How did…_You_."

Snow White smiled.

"Me."

Robin knew villains. He knew them like the back of his own hand, like the second side of his same coin. That's why he hated them so much; if he could, he'd send them all out to space, or to the bottom of the sea, all of them crammed together in a little box which would never, ever be opened because no one left would be dumb enough to; no one left would be a villain. And villains _were _dumb; they always had a weakness, they always wanted power, or glory, or just attention. Each of them had their buttons and they were just so easy to find…Robin didn't envy the other's powers because he knew he didn't need them. Villains were so dumb. Robin knew villains.

But this woman, this cultist, this _witch_…She wasn't a villain. She was just a monster. Just a monster. People's heads aren't jewels or gold or precious ancient artifacts; people's heads aren't _toys_. What could she want? She didn't want power. She didn't want glory or attention. She wanted…

Robin's eyes widened in sudden horror. He didn't know what she wanted.

"You really are adorable…" Snow White was now hovering slightly over the floor, picking at her nails nonchalantly. "Always having such _big _dreams. Did daddy help you with your big dreams?"

"Enough…" snarled Robin under his breath. Robin knew villains…

"Oh! That's right! Daddy wasn't _around _to help little baby boy…Since little baby let daddy fall—"

"I SAID, ENOUGH!" On the final "enough", Robin shot three bird-a-rangs straight at the ice-woman's face. In a literal blink her eyes turned into two bottomless black holes and a field of dark energy sprang up before her. The bird-a-rangs shot off it and bounced off the floor but Robin had already moved on, sprinting in a half-circle around her and chucking a bomb at the woman's feet. She had time to look down and raise a single eyebrow before it burst in an inferno of red and orange.

Robin wasn't dumb enough to play the cocky hero. He crouched, and he frowned, and, with his bo-staff at ready, he waited.

Everywhere small smoking flames danced for a second and died. Flames licked at the cool metal floor and almost immediately vanished. The woman, of course, was unharmed.

"Nothing dents molybdenum steel," she said, soft as feathers. One hand shot up. Immediately four cables were engulfed in her black light; they twitched, then snapped, then shot straight at Robin.

His eyes widened. Not again—

One wire took his bo-staff and wrenched it from his hands. One snapped around one arm; another took the other. And the last, a gleaming metal blue, took his throat.

"Nothing dents molybdenum steel," repeated the woman, "Except people."

* * *

_He was the smartest one in the class. He had an IQ of 170, unheard of in any high school across the United States. Colleges sent him brochures. Institutes requested study sessions. Twice a week he went to a professor at the local university for testing and questioning. Everyone had to know why. Prep school. Genius parents. Scientists. Luck. Maybe that was it…_ _

* * *

_

"_C'mon, Ron, this is dumb." _

"_It's not dumb!" The red-headed teen shot Victor an angry look. "Look, it'll be fun. Just—look. You don't have to take anything big. The boys know it's your first time. I mean, everyone's had a first time, right? Christ, Vic, don't be such a pussy!"_

"_I'm not a goddamn pussy!" Vic flinched slightly as a mother and her child gave him bewildered looks at his suddenly loud tone._

"_Fuck, man," muttered Ron, eyes glaring into the bags of Cornnuts. "Keep your voice down. Jeez, you are an amateur."_

"_Look, I'm not a pussy," whispered Vic fiercely. "Maybe I just don't want to rob a damn convenience store! It's stupid! Not to mention the guy at the cash register's a friend of my dad's."_

"_Shit, Vic, I thought you didn't like your dad."_

"_I hate my dad! That doesn't mean I wanna rob Ringpops from his friend!"_

"_We're not 'robbing' anything! It's not like I want ya to put a gun to his head or something. All you've gotta do is put somethin' under your coat and leave. It's not that friggin' hard!"_

"_Oh, yeah?" Vic fixed Ron's gaze with his two brown eyes. "What if we get caught? What if I get arrested? D'you know what it's like being black in this town? The police practically vie for excuses! And if dad and mom found out…Jesus Christ…"_

"'_Vie'? What the fuck does 'vie'—?"_

"_It means to fight over something."_

"_Yeah, well…" Ron shoved a couple bags and a bottle into his pant's baggy pockets. "Whether they 'vie' for it or not, you're gonna hafta either deal with them or with the boys. They're not gonna take well to having a pussy in our circle."_

_The red-headed teen shoved past Vic then and began his nonchalant stride across the store. Vic stared at the bags of Cornnuts, and put one in his pocket._

_

* * *

_

_He clanged._

_That was the first sound he heard we he emerged from the dark. He clanged. He squealed. His right side hurt. He couldn't raise his right arm; it felt like a TV was strapped to it, like he was coated in—_

"_What the…"_

_His eyes widened. Or one eye did. Oh Jesus…He couldn't feel his right eye._

"_Victor?" His father's face, wrinkled and tear-stained, frowned down at him from his place at the foot of the bed. "Victor? You're awake?"_

"_What happened to me?" His breathing began to quicken; he couldn't feel his breath, he couldn't feel himself breath! "Old man…What did you do!" _

"_You…You were going to die." His father rubbed his hands together; he wouldn't look Vic in the eye. "You were going to die. Just like—"_

_His voice caught, and he fell silent._

"_Mom?" Tears rolled from his left eye; nothing he did made his right eye wet. "Mom's…You killed her, didn't you? With your experiments? That thing…That thing that came through the portal or whatever. That killed her, didn't it? You bastard…YOUR OWN WIFE!"_

"_It was an accident. Accident's happen. The important thing is that you're alive."_

"_I'M NOT ALIVE!" His chest pounded; was that his heart or a cog? "I don't know what I am, but I'm not alive."_

"_You are, Victor. Please, just let me explain. Do you remember the cybernetic body parts Eli…your mother and I ar—were working on? For soldiers disabled in battle?"_

"_Sure…" Victor's left eye flickered back and forth. He couldn't make his right eye open. He couldn't lift his right side. Something inside of him hissed soft; something else rattled. "The metal stuff, right? The stuff that looked like—"_

_He stopped. He blinked. His right eye popped open and locked onto a housefly in the corner. The fly was magnified at 180x._

"_You did this to me…"_

_200x._

"_You did this to me…"_

_250x._

"_Victor…" His father reached out to touch him, for the first real time. "Victor, I—"_

"_Just shut up, old man!" His voice tore through the room; he was shaking. His metal body rattled in his father's silence. "All my life you've used me, forced me to be what you wanted me to be. And all my life I fought you. But you won, didn't you?"_

_His right hand twitched and clutched the hospital mattress._

"_Curse you, man—I'm exactly what you want now!"_

_His father turned around; he began to walk._

"_I hate you, old man! I HATE YOU!"_

_Tears poured unhindered from Victor's left eye. Nothing came from his right. _

"_Damn it, why didn't you let me just die?"_

_Water short-circuits machinery._

"_WHY COULDN'T YOU LET ME DIE!"_

-------------------------

**Author's Pseudo-Apology/Sentimental Ramblings:** I'm back. I never thought that I would be, but I'm back. I suppose this goes to show you the true power of reviews…To be perfectly frank, you people prodded me into returning, specifically the random reviewers I'd get every four (?) months or so. They were all different, they all had different things to say… But still. They reminded me of two things.

That this points at the fanfiction was still there, and that—

This points at inner fanfiction writer was still there too.

Fanfiction is so easy to dismiss as something silly, isn't it? Just fans, making up what they wish would happen. But the more I think about it, the more I'm starting to realize that it's not that at all, at least not for me. It's…writing. It's a chance to write. It's a chance to create something truly your own with characters that you love. It teaches you things; it teaches you to write. Wow. It's…wow. And realizing that people read you, and like you, and have criticism for you, and suggestions, that's perfect! That's absolute perfection for me. Sorry. This is getting sentimental/gushy. I'm just in a really good mood at the moment; I never thought I'd continue this. Really. I have no good excuses; school, life…take your pick. It became unimportant somehow, in comparison to the "real world". But (hm, how to explain this?) I guess that I'm starting to realize that it must be more important to me than I thought it was, since I just can't put it down.

This isn't really an apology, although I owe you one. I figure that an apology has no use at all in the long run, and that a general promise does. So, here goes: I won't update this tomorrow. I won't update this the day after. But I will update this. If you stay with me, I will update this. I'll continue this story. Because it's a story that wants to be told. And that's all I have to say.

**Author's Note:** Hoooo boy… I really earned my rating this chappie, didn't I? Cyborg's back story is…uh…less than sunny. I realize the Chickenshoot stuff was a bit heavy-handed, but I've only got so much space to work with here. I'm tempted to explain some of the weirder things in the chapter, since it was probably quite confusing, but most (if not all) questions will be answered next chapter anyway, so I'll make you wait. Plus I'd rather not have to explain plot points in my author's note; it's bad for business. I'll skip answering reviews this week (rather "this month") because I'm sure most of you won't come back, seeing this fic was dead as of three hours ago. Yeesh, I'm a bad person.

**Next Chapter: Beast Boy plays cat's cradle and becomes very confused.**


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